


Month After Month

by very_important_army



Series: Zhangjun's Anniversary [1]
Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, FLUFF!!, M/M, maybe some minor angst but it's very short I promise, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_important_army/pseuds/very_important_army
Summary: Zhangjing and Yanjun secretly celebrate their anniversary together, month after month.Inspired by thispostand the "coincidence" that has Zhangjun posting almost every month on the 28th.





	Month After Month

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I can't believe I actually managed to push this out by the 28th, I literally wrote half of it today. Happy (alleged) anniversary to my loves Zhangdejun!

**April 6, 2018**

“Are you nervous?” a familiar voice asks knowingly as small hands come up to rest on top of Yanjun’s, effectively stopping him from fidgeting with the thick silver band on his finger.

Yanjun smiles wryly at his best friend.

“You’re going to be great,” Zhangjing reassures him, without even waiting for Yanjun’s response. “Our handsome center, there’s no way you can go wrong. All of your fangirls, your Evanisms, they’re going to faint when they see you!” The shorter reaches up to thread his fingers through Yanjun’s silvery bangs, carefully styling the strands so that they don’t block his eyes.  

Yanjun opens his mouth. _You’re even handsomer,_ he wants to say. _You’re so beautiful._ And when Zhangjing tilts his head at him, lips curling up in a soft smile, his eyes sparkle at Yanjun and the stage lights sweep across his highlighted cheekbones, encompassing him in a halo.

Or maybe that’s just Yanjun. His fingertips twitch as he yearns to cup his face around Zhangjing’s cheek, flushed with nerves and excitement, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s leaning in too close, gaze locked onto Zhangjing’s plump pink lips, perfect for kissing. He’s so close that he can hear Zhangjing’s breaths hitch and stutter, and he really wants to press his lips against the older boy’s.

He can almost feel it.

And then Zhu Zhengting barrels into the room like an explosive, hair swept off his forehead and looking jaw-droppingly gorgeous.  

“You Zhangjing!” He screeches loudly. Zhangjing looks away, seemingly in relief, and waves at the younger boy happily, turning away from Yanjun.

Yanjun squeezes his eyes shut in frustration, before he lets out a slow exhale through his teeth.

He brushes carelessly at Zhangjing’s hair before standing up straight.

“You had lint in your hair,” he explains, monotone.

And he watches as Zhangjing latches onto Zhengting, embracing him, and the beautiful younger man hugs him back just as tightly, babbling about how good Zhangjing sounded in rehearsal just now.

Yanjun’s entire mood sours.

Because they look good together. And beautiful, talented Zhengting, loved by thousands, maybe even millions, of fans across the country, deserves Zhangjing so much more than Yanjun ever could.

Zhu Zhengting ranks at a comfortable seventh place, almost certain to debut — and Yanjun sits at a pitiful eleventh. So close, yet so far to his dreams.

And as Yanjun watches Zhangjing walk out, nestled tightly underneath Zhengting’s arm, and the ghost of Zhangjing’s breath still lingers on his skin, perhaps the same could be said about his love life as well.

Right then and there, Yanjun makes a promise to himself. That if he can stand on stage as one of the nine that are talented enough, hardworking enough, lucky enough to debut, then he’ll have proved to himself that he’s worthy.

Then he can tell Zhangjing, without regrets, that the strength of his feelings for the older boy have far transcended those of friendship.

That he loves him.

 

**April 11, 2018**

Yanjun flops down into the hotel bed, linen sheets cool and soothing against his bare skin. He’s still in shock. He made it. _They_ made it. They really did it, they achieved their dream.

Well, Zhangjing has achieved his dream.

Yanjun has only achieved half.

He sneaks a glance over at where Zhangjing is sprawled in the other bed, messing lethargically with his phone.

“Hey, Zhangjing,” the words spill out of his mouth before he even has the opportunity to think about what he’s going to say.

“Hmm?” Zhangjing looks up at him, blinking sleepily. Yanjun wonders if it’s not too weird to want to be in the bed with him, so close that he can count each individual eyelash and feel the older boy’s warmth against his side. The hotel sheets suddenly feel a little too cold, and he shivers.

That’s not weird, right? After all, he _has_ shared a bed with Zhangjing before, back when they dormed together as trainees.

“Yanjun?” Zhangjing prods curiously, breaking Yanjun out of his thoughts.

“I, uh,” Yanjun hesitates, _love you a lot and want you to be my boyfriend? Nah, that sounds dumb. And would probably freak him out._ “Is it cold in here or is it just me?”

Zhangjing looks at him in confusion. “Um, I think it’s actually really hot, but if you want I can turn down the AC…?” He trails off.

“No, no,” Yanjun says hastily. He bites his lip. Does he dare? “So can I sleep with you then? For warmth, you know,” he tries to say flirtily, suavely, like he’s delivering one of his many bad pickup lines. But his heart is pounding and his palms are getting sweaty and his breath is caught in his throat, waiting for Zhangjing’s reply.

Zhangjing snorts unattractively. (But secretly Yanjun just thinks it’s endearing.) “What a playboy,” he teases.

“Not a playboy, you’re the only one in my heart,” Yanjun assures, “You’re the only one who can give me warmth.” He pouts at Zhangjing.

The older man man scoffs, but he scoots over anyway. Yanjun beams and hops into the twin bed, making himself comfortable under the covers. It’s a little snug, but that just gives Yanjun even more reason to cuddle close to Zhangjing, invading his personal space in the only way he dares to, in the only way he knows how. His arm slips in comfortably over Zhangjing’s waist, in the position they always seem to find themselves in, when the nightmares and the ghost stories get to be too much for Zhangjing to handle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here to protect you from the ghosts,” Yanjun whispers to the boy in his arms. He doesn’t know if Zhangjing heard him — the smaller boy is already drifting away into slumber, breaths evening out and shoulders relaxing into Yanjun’s embrace. Yanjun holds him just a bit tighter, just a bit closer.

He doesn’t know if Zhangjing heard the unspoken confession that he’s too scared to say.

 

**April 28th, 2018**

Their entire trip to LA has come and gone, and Yanjun still has not confessed to Zhangjing.

“Stupid,” he berates himself, banging his head against the wall.

A sudden giggle comes from beside to him, and a small hand slides in between the wall and his head so that when Yanjun brings his head back down, Zhangjing catches him and cups his face. “Yeah, so you don’t need to lose any more brain cells,” he says, eyes twinkling.

Yanjun didn’t even hear Zhangjing get out of the shower, but here he is, standing in front of him with a soft smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed from the warm shower, and his hair hangs in thin strands in front of his eyes. The lack of makeup reveals the bags under his eyes and the small blemishes on his face, but Yanjun thinks he looks beautiful all the same, with the way he smiles at Yanjun with his full attention and how his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

Zhangjing looks genuinely happy, which is a far cry from those months of stress and fear and exhaustion that had become permanently etched into the lines of his face, and Yanjun feels the relief bubble up in his chest and up his throat into an abrupt proclamation.  

“I love you,” Yanjun blurts out.

Fuck. That was possibly the least romantic way he could’ve confessed to Zhangjing, he bemoans, mentally kicking himself.

Zhangjing startles, but he laughs, a bit nervous and a bit shy — it’s usually Zhangjing that drops those three words easily, generously, while Yanjun keeps his emotions locked up tight. But You Zhangjing holds the key, and perhaps these months of spending every waking minute with each other has unlocked Yanjun’s heart.

“I love you too,” Zhangjing replies easily, questioningly, tilting his head like an adorable puppy. “But you know I do.”

“No, Zhangjing,” Yanjun tries again, “I mean I _love_ you.” He drops his head, embarrassed, but he can’t help but peek through his eyelashes to gauge Zhangjing’s reaction. To see if he understood.

And of course he did. It’s You Zhangjing, after all. Who understands Lin Yanjun better than You Zhangjing?

Zhangjing’s lips are parted in surprise, but his eyes are full of hope and disbelief and best of all, love. A flush climbs up the older man’s cheeks, and he bites down on his lip, trying not to smile, but Yanjun can see it anyway.  

Yanjun brings his thumb up to stroke at Zhangjing’s lower lip. “Stop biting your lips, you’re going to bleed.” And when Zhangjing releases his teeth, lips now shiny and plump, Yanjun brings his face close together so that they’re exchanging breaths.

“You Zhangjing, you own my entire heart,” Yanjun whispers.  And in response, Zhangjing merely steps forward, chest right up against Yanjun’s, and presses his lips against Yanjun’s own.

So maybe Yanjun has achieved his dreams.

\--

Later that night, when Zhangjing is curled up in Yanjun’s arms, Yanjun is scrolling through his pictures. The most recent pictures that greets him are ones that Yanjun doesn’t recall seeing —  it’s a series of photos of Yanjun running up the camera and sticking his face into it. Yanjun vaguely remembers running up to Zhangjing earlier, wanting the older man’s attention, and belatedly, he realizes that Zhangjing must’ve been holding Yanjun’s phone instead of his own.

Without thinking twice, Yanjun quickly selects his favorite pictures where his now-boyfriend had photographed him. For his last picture on the grid, he takes a quick snapshot of Zhangjing’s favorite plush bunny tucked in under Yanjun’s covers.

That’s where the real Zhangjing will be after today, anyway.  

_I love you with no skills, sincerely and barbarously…_

 

**May 6, 2018**

Yanjun recoils in shock and horror. He had tried to school his expression into a poker face as soon as he heard that Chengcheng would have to be hugging Zhangjing to pop the balloons, knowing that hundreds of fans were clicking away at their cameras, immortalizing his every expression.

But he can’t help himself now.

Not when Fan Chengcheng is _on top of_ Zhangjing.

Fan Chengcheng is on top of _his_ boyfriend.

And he can feel his face contort in dismay, shrinking away from the sight above him, before slipping into a pout naturally.

Because even he, as Zhangjing’s boyfriend, hasn’t even had the opportunity to be on top of Zhangjing yet. Why does Chengcheng get to lie on top of him first, he wails inside his head.

The sullen look doesn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, even as he inadvertently glares at Chengcheng every time he makes eye contact at him. At least, not until Zhangjing kisses his pouting lips with a laugh and wraps his arms around Yanjun’s middle and climbs on top of his lap to feed him his favorite bread, saying “Stop scowling at the poor boy, you’re scaring him!”

 

**May 28, 2018**

Yanjun rolls over in his hotel bed, furiously typing out a text.

_Babyyyy happy one month anniversary!_

_Babe_

_Jing_

_I miss youuuuu_

_YOU ZHANGJING!_

_Read 9:40am._

 

This bitch. Yanjun scowls. Suddenly, his phone vibrates in his hand, and Yanjun nearly drops his phone on his face. One new notification from You Zhangjing.

Yanjun drums his fingers impatiently against the back of his phone as Weibo loads much too slowly for his liking.

And when the picture finally loads, Yanjun does actually drop his phone on his face.

Photos of his boyfriend looking utterly ethereal greets him, but what really gets him is the cotton neckline pulled slightly lower than usual.

_Who wants to eat collarbones?_

What a fucking tease.

And when Yanjun’s phone buzzes again, Yanjun can’t help but groan in desire.

_I miss you too, Yanjun._

_Happy one month!_

_Hurry up and come home so that we can celebrate...maybe we can re-enact mine and Chengcheng’s balloon popping?_

_...just, you know, without a balloon and with much less clothes on. ;)_

And if Yanjun flies out of his bed, intent on contacting his manager to book the first flight back home without looking back, well, nobody needs to know.

 

**June 28, 2018**

Zhangjing opens the door to Yanjun’s beaming face. “Why’d you knock? You live here.”

Yanjun scowls at him for half a second. “Just let me have my moment,” he complains, “I just wanted to take my boyfriend out on a date for our second month anniversary.”

Zhangjing just laughs in his face, stepping aside to let Yanjun walk in. “You know we’re supposed to lay low for the next couple of days. Manager told us not to go outside.”

Yanjun sulks and sighs dramatically. “Well, guess I’ll just have to settle for a cuddle date.” He nudges Zhangjing towards their bedroom, stopping briefly to hang a handwritten sign on their door: DO NOT DISTURB.

Zhangjing laughs out loud when he sees it. “Is that really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” Yanjun replies indignantly, “or else all of these gremlins are going to come knocking on the door looking for my boyfriend for some useless reason, and interrupt our date. Now go, change into your pajamas!”

Ten minutes later, Zhangjing is snuggled up in bed with Yanjun curling around his back, arms wrapped tightly around him. Yanjun kisses the back of his head, and Zhangjing nuzzles closer into Yanjun’s embrace.

“This is nice,” Zhangjing murmurs. He’s almost too comfortable now, surrounded by Yanjun’s warmth, the haze of sleep settling over his mind.

“Mmhm,” Yanjun hums, contented, against his neck. The younger boy is on the verge of falling asleep himself, thumb rubbing small, gentle circles into Zhangjing’s hip. Zhangjing sighs deeply, letting his mind clear. He can feel the heat of Yanjun’s skin pressed against every single vertebrate, feel his stomach expand with every breath that the younger boy takes, and hear every puff of air against his neck. Even without looking at Yanjun, Zhangjing can imagine his hair falling over his eyes, long lashes fanning out, and lips slightly parted. When he hears the change in his breath, Zhangjing knows that the younger has fallen asleep.

Silently, Zhangjing thanks Yanjun for forcing the cuddling date onto him, and closes his eyes.

But not for long.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

“Zhangjing-ge!” Justin hollers from outside. Zhangjing nearly jumps out of his skin, mourning the loss of his sweet slumber. “Come outside, I wanna play with you.”

Yanjun’s arms tighten around Zhanging’s waist. “Nobody’s home!” He yells at the door, voice groggy with sleep, before throwing his leg over Zhangjing’s as well, locking him in his embrace even tighter.

“That’s not fair!” Comes Justin’s whine from outside the door. “You don’t get to hog Zhangjing-ge all to yourself! Zhengting-ge, Yanjun-ge is holding Zhangjing-ge hostage!”

Zhangjing just laughs as Yanjun spits curses out, refusing to let him go. Well, it was nice while it lasted.  

 

**July 28, 2018**

Yanjun leans against the tree and stares grouchily at his phone. Zhangjing’s late for their date, because his boyfriend decided to be a perfectionist and refuse to leave the photoshoot until he looked flawless.

“It shouldn’t even take that long, Zhangjing always looks beautiful,” Yanjun grumbles to himself, opening his messages.

 _Hurry up, the food’s getting cold,_ he texts. Yanjun wills the little check mark to color itself in, signifying that his boyfriend has seen his text.

No response.

Yanjun whines out loud, clicking on random videos of Zhangjing to spend the time. Zhangjing beams at him from inside the little screen, and Yanjun smiles involuntarily back.

“ _I want to be a big tree,”_ Zhangjing says. He smiles happily, innocently. “ _I want to protect the people around me.”_

Yanjun looks up at the tree he’s resting against, the leaves protecting him from the harsh glare of the midday sun.  

“ _I’ll accompany you,”_ Yanjun writes. He’ll understand what he means.

As soon as the message is posted, a text from Zhangjing comes in.

“Oh, now he texts me back,” Yanjun complains, but the corners of his lips turn up into an anticipatory smile.

A short text.

_Thank you, Lin Yanjun._

 

**August 28, 2018**

When Zhangjing is sure that they’ve gotten enough footage for the nights, and the cameras are turned off, he slips out of his room and knocks on the door to the only single. Lin Yanjun opens the door.

“So...can I come in?” Zhangjing asks, grinning happily.

“What’s the password?” Yanjun returns the smirk.

Zhangjing pretends to think. “I have no more bread!” He blurts dramatically, bursting into giggles when Yanjun makes to slam the door, trying to school his features into an unimpressed look. Zhangjing throws himself forward, clinging onto Yanjun’s arm before the door can close, and Yanjun dissolves into a soft, wide smile.

“How about, I love Lin Yanjun?” Zhangjing offers with a coy smirk.

Yanjun hums, eyes twinkling in mirth. “Hmm, seems closer, but not quite.”

Zhangjing wraps an arm around Yanjun’s neck and pulls his head down before kissing him firmly on the lips.

“How about now?”

“Dan dan dan!” Yanjun sings, stepping aside. “Access granted.”

“You’re so lame,” Zhangjing snorts, flopping onto Yanjun’s bed. Yanjun crawls in behind him.

“I can revoke your access right now,” Yanjun threatens into Zhangjing’s neck. Zhangjing shivers in delight.

“Okay, okay, I love you,” Zhangjing acquiesces through a yawn. Yanjun’s arms tighten around him.

“Good night Zhangjing,” Yanjun murmurs. “I love you too.”

 

**September 19, 2018**

Yanjun drums his fingers impatiently as the dial tone rings. He’s restless and misses his boyfriend and wishes that he could see him on his birthday, but why did he just have to have a schedule?

Someone picks up, and it’s loud over on the other end of the line. Yanjun winces. Is Zhangjing filming?

“Wei?” Someone who is _not_ his boyfriend picks up. “Whose phone is this?”

“Justin, you picked up and you don’t even know whose phone it is?” Yanjun speaks impatiently, but he’s drowned out by the loud voice of his boyfriend.

“What are you doing with my phone?” Zhangjing shrieks. “Wei?” Suddenly Zhangjing voice sounds much closer, much softer, and Yanjun can’t help but smile.

“What are you doing?” He tries to ask casually, but his heart races at the mere sound of Zhangjing’s voice. God, he’s so whipped.

“He stole my phone,” Zhangjing pouts into the phone.

Yanjun smiles. “Happy birthday, baby. I love you.” He knows Zhangjing can’t say it back, since he’s being filmed, but the soft, sweet “bye bye” that his boyfriend breathes into the phone tells him all that he needs to know.

And later that night, Yanjun takes a picture. Perhaps it’s a little daring, a little risky — but Yanjun places a small grapefruit in the empty spot next to him in bed.

_“I’ve been a bit busy lately, I’ll see you soon, good night."_

 

**September 28, 2018**

When Yanjun misses Zhangjing, he goes back into their texting history and rereads old conversations. The more he scrolls, the more he longs.

Yanjun finds himself all the way back in July.

_Where will you accompany me to, Yanjun?_

_Wherever you want me to, baobei._

_Hmm. I wanna visit Taiwan!_

_Wow, you wanna come home with me that badly, don’t you?_

_Shut up, Lin Yanjun! That’s not what I meant!_

_I’ll take you home with me, baby. I’ll treat you to dinner with roses, introduce you to my parents, and watch the sunset with you._

_...I’m holding you to that, Lin Yanjun._

Yanjun sighs. Zhangjing has been so busy being lovable that he hasn’t had any time for Yanjun — and even though the older man calls and texts and Facetimes, Yanjun just wants to hold him in his arms. He wants to lean his chin on Zhangjing’s head, and then dramatically pretend to wince in pain as Zhangjing slaps at him.

Yanjun sighs again. “ _When will you watch the sunset with me?”_

 

**October 28, 2018**

_Beep. This is Xiao You’s phone! I’m probably being forced to dance or eat diet meals right now, so I can’t come to the phone. If you plan on treating me to hot pot, then leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you! If you don’t, well, leave a message anyway and I_ might _respond. Beep._

Yanjun sighs. He’s been doing a lot of that recently, it seems.

“Are you too good for your boyfriend now, You Zhangjing?” He grumbles, glaring childishly at his phone.

 _I miss you,_ he texts.

The message is seen almost immediately. Yanjun waits for a response.

His phone remains silent.

_Are you busy right now, baby?_

_Baby, please, call me back when you’re free…_

Frustrated, Yanjun throws his phone off to the side. Just as it leaves his fingertips, however, the device vibrates — Yanjun fumbles for it, snatching it up as soon it hits the pillow.

He opens Weibo — _Grey is don’t want to say, blue is melancholy…_

A lump rises in Yanjun’s throat. So he can post, but he can’t text back? A wave of longing consumes Yanjun, rising up in his chest and choking him. Yanjun blinks back tears as Zhangjing’s pictures swim before his eyes, the older boy looking bright and happy and unaffected.

“You Zhangjing, why are you ignoring me?” Yanjun whispers, clutching his phone to his chest, a painfully inadequate substitute of the boy lingering in his mind.

 

**November 28, 2018**

Zhangjing stares at his phone, rereading Yanjun’s messages for the hundredth time. He opens up the contact menu, and his finger gravitates towards the call button. Zhangjing very consciously curls his hands into fists, digging his blunt fingernails into his palm hard enough to leave a mark. He shakes his head fiercely to blink away the tears, to wash away his yearning for his boyfriend.

Setting his phone down, he goes right back into the recording booth. His manager blinks at him in surprise. “Xiao You, you don’t want to take a longer break? You barely rested for a minute.”

Zhangjing shakes his head violently. “No, I’m okay.” _If I don’t distract myself, I’m going to do something I’ll regret._

His manager scrutinizes him carefully. “Xiao You,” he begins, “are you sure you don’t want to call Yanjun?”

Zhangjing bites down on his lip, and shakes his head one more time, hesitant.

“You don’t look very sure,” his manager laughs. “Go on, Xiao You, go call your boyfriend, I know you miss him. Don’t come back until you do!”

Zhangjing plops on the couch, opening up Yanjun’s contact again. His boyfriend’s handsome face beams up at him — well, maybe not quite _up_ at him. Yanjun isn’t looking at the camera. But he _is_ looking at Zhangjing. Zhangjing has set Yanjun’s photo to one of his fansite’s photos, one of the pictures where Yanjun is gazing at Zhangjing, offscreen, with a sweet smile and flashing dimples. It’s a smile that Zhangjing never really gets to see in person, because whenever Zhangjing turns to meet his eyes, Yanjun quickly schools his expression into a wickedly teasing one, making a joke at Zhangjing’s expense. But here, Zhangjing gets to see Yanjun’s tender, loving expression, and knowing that he’s on the receiving end of that look makes his heart do a little dance in his ribcage.

Zhangjing sighs, trying to caress Yanjun’s face through his phone, needing to be close to him, just for a little bit.

Inadvertently, his finger swipes the little call button.

Zhangjing freezes.

The screen flashes with Yanjun’s name, and although Zhangjing wants to panic and hang up, Yanjun picks up before the first ring even finishes.

“Hello?” His voice is hopeful. “Zhangjing, baby?”

“Yanjun,” Zhangjing manages to whisper. To his embarrassment, hot tears begin to run down his face. “Yanjun,” Zhangjing sobs.

“What’s wrong, Jing?” Yanjun asks, sounding alarmed. “Baby, are you crying? Please don’t cry, tell me what’s wrong…”

“I _missed_ you!” Zhangjing cries. “I miss you so fucking much, Lin Yanjun. Your voice is making me cry!” He sniffles loudly.

“Oh babe, I miss you too, I miss you so much,” Yanjun whispers into the phone. “You have no idea, Zhangjing, I need you here with me.”

Zhangjing clears his throat and rubs furiously at his eyes. “I couldn’t call you because I knew I would cry if I did,” he says sorrowfully. “Lin Yanjun, I’m scared to text you, I’d miss you even more if I did.”

“Silly,” Yanjun breathes out a chuckle, “won’t you miss me more if you don’t text me? I know I missed you even more when you didn’t text back.” Zhangjing can hear him sulking.

“Sorry, Lin Yanjun,” Zhangjing pouts. “Are you angry at me?”

Yanjun sighs loudly, crackling through the phone speakers. “You Zhangjing, how could I ever be angry at you?” he bemoans. “You say my name and suddenly all is well, I forgive you for anything and everything.”

Zhangjing’s smile is watery, but more genuine than it’s been in a while.

“I love you, okay?” Yanjun says, uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll love you forever.”

“Forever is a long time,” Zhangjing says.

“I believe that some things are forever,” Yanjun says firmly, “and this love is one of those things.”

 

**December 28, 2018**

“Baby, did you listen to my song?” Yanjun asks brightly into the phone.

“Of course I did,” Zhangjing laughs. “I get to listen to Lin Yanjun’s first EP before everyone else does, I feel so special.”

“You are so special, love,” Yanjun gushes. “Oh my god, I love you so much.”

Zhangjing retches playfully into the phone. “I can feel myself getting cavities,” he complains loudly, but the tips of his ears are burning. He’s smiling hard, and he can feel his cheeks burn as it tugs on muscles that are rarely used these days.

“It’s about you, you know?” Yanjun says softly. He begins to sing softly into the phone.

_“I can’t seem to figure out what I did wrong, not picking up your phone, what are you doing now?”_

Zhangjing closes his eyes, presses his phone closer to his ear, and lets Yanjun’s smooth, soft voice wash over him. The lyrics bring him back to that dark month of radio silence, that month of fear before he found the courage to listen to Yanjun’s voice again. And he’s so thankful for his boyfriend, for his continuous love.

The song is cathartic, in a way. Zhangjing feels like he’s shedding all these painful memories with Yanjun, and it gives him strength in a way that he would’ve never imagined.

_Just keep walking no matter how long the path is, then we might meet again._

 

**January 28, 2019**

Zhangjing impatiently refreshes his feed. He’s already fulfilled his unspoken end of their little ritual, and posted a reference to Yanjun’s favorite childhood cartoon. Where the fuck is Yanjun?

There’s only twelve minutes til midnight in China. Zhangjing holds his phone close to his chest, trying to keep his sleepy eyes open.

“Zhangjing,” Zhengting whispers, shielding his eyes from the light of his phone, “go to sleep.”

With softly murmured apologies, Zhangjing lulls Zhengting back to sleep, but he can’t fall asleep without seeing Yanjun’s post.

The clock ticks 5am — it’s midnight for Yanjun now, officially the 29th.

Yanjun is late.

Yanjun is late, and though it’s silly and superficial, Zhangjing kind of wants to cry. He rolls over, and falls into a fitful sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, however, the cracks in his heart mend themselves.

_I’ve been busy recently, almost forgot to celebrate this little new year._

But you remembered me in the end, Lin Yanjun, so that’s okay.

 

**February 28, 2019**

Zhangjing is giddy with excitement. He and Yanjun are in the same city for the first time in what feels like ages, and while they can’t exactly go on a date in the middle of Seoul’s busy streets, at least they can have their own little date night here in the hotel.

Zhangjing wriggles around happily as Yanjun uncaps the little container, the flavorful scent of tteokbokki filling the air.

“Oh my god, I’m salivating,” Zhangjing groans, picking up his chopsticks in a hurry, ready to dig in. “Hey!” He exclaims, offended, when Yanjun takes the utensils away from him.

Yanjun picks up a rice cake. “Say ahh,” he coos, bringing it towards Zhangjing’s lips. Zhangjing recoils, looking at him in disgust.

Yanjun pouts.

Zhangjing can’t hold back his smile, and obediently opens his mouth, chewing happily. A bit of the sauce remains on his lower lip, and Yanjun leans in, intention in his eyes.

Zhangjing squeaks a little as Yanjun’s lips come down on his, hard. Quickly regaining his bearings and swallowing the last bite of tteokbokki, he wraps his arms around Yanjun’s neck.

“Zhangjing,” Yanjun gasps between fierce kisses, “I love you.”

 

**March 28, 2019**

“What are you doing?” Yanjun murmurs.

“Trying to take a good selfie,” Zhangjing hums in reply, messing with the filters.

“All your selfies are good selfies,” Yanjun promises.

“Don’t lie to me,” Zhangjing snaps, but a secret smile graces his lips. “Oh wait, Yanjun!”

“Hmm?”

Zhangjing is giggling in delight. “Oh my god, this selfie looks like you!” he exclaims in surprise.

“Well, you know what they say,” Yanjun says, “Couples in love tend to look alike. Send it to me, I wanna see.”

“Oh my god,” Yanjun groans, accusatory. “Why did you send this to me? Are you trying to kill me?”

“What did I do?” Zhangjing protests, offended.

“You’re making me want to kiss you,” Yanjun complains. “How dare you?”

Zhangjing smacks his lips together loudly, playfully sending kisses to his phone. “Love you, Yanjun.”

 

**April 28, 2019**

The second Yanjun sees Zhangjing, he runs straight for his boyfriend.

“Lin Yanjun, oh my god, put me down!” Zhangjing shrieks when the younger man picks him up and spins him around. “Oh my god, I’m going to crush you.”

“80 pounds, 80 pounds!” Yanjun just laughs gleefully, throwing back his head in pure, unadulterated joy. “You Zhangjing, I love you!” Yanjun screams at the top of his lungs.

The rest of Nine Percent stares at them with varying expressions of amusement, delight, and disgust.       

Zhangjing hides his face in Yanjun’s shoulder, suppressing his smile.

“It’s our first anniversary,” Yanjun proclaims proudly, holding Zhangjing close to his chest.

“I know it is,” Zhengting says, exasperated, “But we need to start filming now. Lin Yanjun, let him go and get over here!”

To his credit, Yanjun releases Zhangjing, albeit not without a pout and a dissatisfied grunt. Zhangjing giggles at him before schooling his features into an appropriate expression, just in time for the camera to start rolling.

 

Later that night, Yanjun crawls into bed beside Zhangjing and slips his arms around the older man’s waist. Zhangjing turns over to face him, burying his face into Yanjun’s chest and kissing the bare skin. Yanjun shudders briefly and pulls his boyfriend closer to him.

For once, neither speaks, choosing to simply bask in each other’s presence. Zhangjing is almost lulled to sleep by Yanjun’s quiet breaths and steady heartbeat, surrounded by the warmth of his arms. Their legs are tangled together, reassuring and familiar, and the last twinge of loneliness evaporates.

A gentle pressure at the top of Zhangjing’s head tells him that Yanjun has just kissed him. “I love you, Yanjun,” he mumbles into the younger man’s skin. “I’m glad we got to see each other today.”

“Happy anniversary, Zhangjing,” he hears just as he drifts off into sweet slumber, “here’s to many more years together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Smut outtake of February 28, 2019 is now up, [posted here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624667)
> 
> Come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/viarmy0111) and send me messages on [CC!](https://curiouscat.me/viarmy0111)


End file.
